


First Comes Love, Then Comes Marriage

by TryingToMystrade (TryingToScribble)



Series: Something About Sophie [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Misunderstandings, marriage talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 15:00:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17768978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TryingToScribble/pseuds/TryingToMystrade
Summary: Sophie made an assumption that puts Greg in a bit of a pickle. It's actually all Mycroft's fault.





	First Comes Love, Then Comes Marriage

Mycroft took another sip of his tea as he watched Gregory squirm in his seat and look anywhere but at him. If it was anyone else in front of him, Mycroft would have been suspicious of the man keeping things from him but from Gregory it was closer to endearing. Once upon a time Mycroft would have been confused and uncomfortable with that revelation. That was no longer the case. He just worried.

 

Mycroft tilted his head in question. Greg wanted to tell him something but was struggling with whatever it was. He would tell him when he was ready but…

 

“Gregory, I really cannot help you if you don’t tell me what is bothering you.”

 

Greg stared at his own hands to avoid Mycroft’s piercing blue gaze. Despite his encouraging words, Mycroft was a very patient man. He pushed his cup and saucer to the side and folded his hands on the table.

 

After a long, silent moment Greg seemed to steel himself and allow his eyes to slowly lift from his hands until he was looking with uncertainty into Mycroft’s eyes. Mycroft opened his mouth to offer more comforting words but all that did was make Greg lose his bottle again and go back to looking anywhere else. He tried to cover his moment of weakness by shoving his own cup of coffee in his face and inhale the contents in his haste.

 

“Gregory-” Mycroft began again, only to be interrupted by Greg’s first words in over twenty minutes. His eyes were squeezed shut and his words mumbled into his drink.

 

Mycroft leaned forward slightly, his elbows on the table now. Manners went out of the window when his concern for Gregory grew. “Pardon?”

 

Greg sighed and chugged the last of his caffeine courage so he could no longer put off the inevitable. He lowered the cup at a snail’s pace then reached out to flatten and straighten his napkin.

 

“I said you have to promise not to freak out.” Greg said with more volume than confidence. Of course the comment put Mycroft on edge immediately. Who said those words and then ever followed them with good news? It was already guaranteed that it was going to be bad news anyway if Greg’s intense reluctance was to go by but something about the added pressure in that comment gave Mycroft chills.

 

However, he was nothing if not a confident man of his word. “When have you ever known me to do that?” It was best to reassure his partner with a small smile than to frighten him. It always helped to remind Greg that unnerving situations were his forte. It would not do to let Gregory in on his little secret that the man was his downfall in many emotionally driven areas. It would not do to do anything as undignified as to freak out in front of his better half. Nothing was so dire as to bring him to such a state-

 

“Sophie may or may not have told my parents that we’re getting married.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Mycroft froze.

 

His thoughts came to a complete crashing halt. The both of them fell into a silent caricature, an unmoving, still picture in the aftermath of a bombshell being dropped.

 

Greg startled and jumped in his seat when a server came to their table to collect their empty cups. He thanked them distractedly and Mycroft remained oblivious as he continued to process.

 

“I… um…” Greg tried to think of something to say to ease the confession; make excuses and apologies, but where could he start? “I didn’t tell her we were getting married.” He began with the obvious. “I didn’t say anything of the like. Why would I? I swear I haven’t even mentioned anything about marriages or weddings for or with anyone. She was just sat there chatting away like usual and suddenly she was telling my mum how great it’s going to be and I didn’t have the guts to say she was wro-”

 

“It was me.”

 

Greg’s head whipped up in shock. Surely he hadn’t heard that right. “I… You… What?”

 

A moment ago he was rambling with nerves with his excuses and now he couldn’t form a complete sentence in his confusion.

 

Mycroft blinked and barked a short laugh. “It was me.” He repeated, sounding more in awe of the situation than Greg did.

 

Greg tilted his head. “You told Sophie we’re getting married?” He wasn’t sure he understood. No, Greg was sure that he didn’t understand. Why would Mycroft do that?

 

“No. Well, that wasn’t my intention.”

 

Greg still didn’t understand. In fact, if anything Mycroft was confusing him even more. His answer was still not an answer.

 

“I did not mean for Sophie to interpret my musings as my intent to marry you at this moment in time. She was upset and I simply meant to put her mind at ease.” He caught Greg’s gaze and they finally looked at each other properly. “I never told her a lie. That is the last thing I would ever wish to do, to her or you. Yet I can see how she took my words to mean just as she told your mother.”

 

Mycroft smiled softly at Greg’s lost expression. It was understandable that Gregory was confused. He was about to be the apologetic one, making excuses for his daughter’s behaviour and blaming himself for misleading her and now Mycroft was confessing his own mistakes and absolving Greg of any that he thought he had made.

 

Mycroft pursed his lips before continuing to explain. “It was the same day I confessed my love for you.” He said, and took a moment to remember that day fondly. He was glad to see Greg do the same with that signature smirk. “Sophie asked me what my intentions were.”

 

Greg's eyes grew wide. “My daughter gave you the shovel talk?”

 

“No, no.” Mycroft rushed to correct himself although he allowed himself a chuckle at the thought. “Not as such. Not in the way that you’re thinking. She simply asked if I planned to marry her father because he loves me,” Mycroft held his arms stretched out to the sides just as Sophie had that day, “this much.”

 

It was getting easier to make Greg relax and laugh along with him now. Mycroft was glad to ease his mind.

 

“I realise only now that I did not exactly say no.”

 

Another pause in conversation gave way to some thought on Greg’s part. He suddenly hated himself a little for being disappointed that Mycroft hadn’t said yes. The man had just told him that this was what led him to saying those all important three words for the first time and Greg was an idiot for wanting more than that right now. It wasn’t as if they had been going out for long enough to even consider marriage, right?

 

It took Greg a moment to realise that Mycroft had continued to speak again. “I do believe that my exact words were ‘that’s not really an easy question to answer’.”

 

Well, wasn’t that just another stab to the gut for this poor lovelorn copper. No, lovelorn wasn’t the right word. He was being stupid. Mycroft loves him, he knew that. He just wasn’t intent on marrying Greg. He could live with that. He could live with wanting more than his partner.

 

Greg startled again when a hand landed on his forearm. He looked up (he didn’t remember looking away again) to find Mycroft’s eyes on him, and with an amused twist to his lips. Mycroft stroked his thumb over Greg’s wrist. “You stopped listening, didn’t you?” He asked without a hint of accusation. Greg gave a sheepish look in answer and then after shrugging his only defence, he offered a questioning twitch of his eyebrows. They were both embarrassed and apologetic a minute ago and now Mycroft was happy and finding entertainment from his misery?

 

Mycroft’s smile turned soft. That expression didn’t baffle Mycroft. Greg thought Mycroft was avoiding a certain topic becoming more than hypothetical.

 

“Gregory, I told Sophie it wasn’t an easy question to answer because it really isn’t. I hadn’t told you yet that I love you. Which I do, of course.” Mycroft slipped his hand into Greg’s and squeezed. “There was also the question of your consent. It was very early in our relationship and I couldn’t very well answer that question in good conscience without also knowing your thoughts on the subject, and it wasn’t something I thought I could bring up casually just yet.”

 

Of course Mycroft was just that chivalrous. Greg felt like a fool for making assumptions. He smiled shyly down at their joined hands. God, he loved this man.

 

Mycroft reached over the table to lift Greg’s chin with a gentle finger. He didn’t speak until Gregory was looking at him again. “I hope I’m not overstepping here, but would I be correct in taking that look to mean that you would not be averse to marrying me?” Greg leaned into the hand that was now caressing his cheek as he thought about how wonderful that would be. To stand opposite this amazing man in the most amazing, fitted tuxedo, and pledge their lives to each other in front of everyone that matters. That would be perfection.

 

Which is where his thoughts rolled to a stop as he thought about the conversation and his dreamy look became shocked. “Did you just…”

 

Mycroft jumped in immediately to reassure the man. “No, my dear. I didn’t just ask you to marry me. That would have been rather a poor story to tell, no?” He attempted to joke to avoid Greg panicking or running away. “Rather, I was asking if you would allow me to ask you. That is to say, would you like me to ask you to marry me at some point in the future? Or perhaps you would like to propose to me. That would be wonderful, too.”

 

Greg appreciated Mycroft’s rambling clarification because he knew it was purely for his benefit. It allowed him to breathe before he answered a very emphatic and enthusiastic, “Yes.” He smiled wide and reached to grip each of Mycroft’s hands in his own, placing a kiss on the palm he took from his cheek first. “Yes. Any of that. All of that. I would like that future.”

 

“I would like that future, too.” Mycroft replied and they both stared adoringly at each other until they were interrupted once again by an accidental knock to their table and an rushed apology. When they caught each others eyes again they laughed and relaxed back into their seats.

 

Mycroft sighed as he relaxed and then almost immediately grimaced as their next problem came back to him. “What do you plan to tell your mother?”

 

Greg groaned and imagined the conversation he’d have to have to explain his lying by omission. He huffed a self pitying laugh. “I’ll just explain that Sophie misinterpreted and jumped the gun a bit and that I was a bit shocked to correct her.” He shrugged and then threw back a bigger question. “What are we going to tell Sophie?”

 

“The truth is that Sophie wasn’t incorrect in her assumptions. We do plan to marry, just not quite as soon as she thinks. Would it be so bad to not tell her she was wrong if she wasn’t?”

 

Greg nodded. “Yeah. Of course.” He lifted one of Mycroft’s hands to kiss his knuckles. “You’re right.”

 

“I’m always right.” Came the reply with a wink and Mycroft stole those same hands to do the same.

 

“I love you.” Mycroft spoke against his skin and Greg grinned. A song that Sophie had taken to singing entered his head and he laughed before sharing in a little sing song.

 

“Greg and Mycroft sitting in a tree.”


End file.
